Living Among Perfection
by lookupatthesky
Summary: A little drabblish sort of story that explores how a young Estel that's angry at the world feels about living in Imladris, surrounded by ageless elves and no children. ONESHOT and VERY short.


**Disclaimer: **Ahem. I own nothing. It all belongs to the great JRR Tolkien

**Summery:** A little drabblish sort of story that explores how a young Estel that's angry at the world feels about living in Imladris, surrounded by ageless elves and no children. ONESHOT and VERY short.

**Author's Note:** This is just a little one-shot about a young Estel, and how he feels living among elves. It is told through his point of view, and I have tried to keep it as canon as possible. If you notice something incorrect, then PLEASE tell me. I think I did my math right, according to the appendixes in my Lord of the Rings book. I'll probably edit this sometime soon, but for right now I kind of like this, because to me it seems in the nature of a child to be a little haphazard in his or her thoughts. Anyways, if you like it, please review. I might make it longer if I get some inspiration, but for now this will have to do . It's only about two pages on Microsoft, but I like it. -Steph

**Author:** cupppycakes (Steph)

**Living Among Perfection: **

I'm going to die someday. I've always known it – it's just one of those things that are common knowledge in Imladris. Just as common as the fact that none of the elves will ever die, at least not from old age. I've always known that, too – once I grow old and die, everyone else will go on. Lord Elrond, Elladan, Elrohir: they'll just keep living and living, never growing old or changing.

But I'm changing – I'm growing taller, my hair's getting longer each day, and my skill with the sword and bow are increasing. I can now ride any horse without trouble, and I can read Sindarin and Westron now, and each day I learn more and more about the history of Middle-Earth.

Mother is changing, too – I know she used to look young, like the elves did. But now she's starting to look a little older, year by year. Someday, I know she's going to die, just like me. I'm almost ten, with only a few centuries more to live. Elrohir says that he's 2,811 – and he has much more time then me still to go on.

It's kind of sad, really. Everyone looks at me differently, and treats me differently. Most have never seen any humans, except for Mother and I. Others – like me – haven't even seen an elf child, because elf pregnancies happen so rarely. I don't think I'll ever live to see an elf child, as strange as it is.

But there's more to it then that – much more. What really makes me different is their superiority. Few mention it, or treat me differently, but it is still there. I could never even dream of matching them in anything. The eyesight of elves is baffling, as is their strength, endurance, and grace. They could easily overpower me in every way possible, for their grace and light of foot (though that is by far simplifying their way of moving without being heard) surpass that of anyone else. I feel constantly loud and clumsy when in their presence – it is taxing to be around such perfection.

For that is what they are, perfect. It is true; elves are perfect in every way. Even their voices and beauty are like that of no one else – I look like a foul creature in comparison, and when they speak or sing I am afraid to talk afterwards, for my voice is horrid when compared to an elf's.

I've spent my whole life feeling like this – incompetent, weak, stupid, and foolish, among other things. I tire easily, they just keep going on, I can't lift something, and they lift it as easily as if it were a feather.

They laugh sometimes when I get angry or tired, because they are so good-natured and ignorant of the ways of humans that my feelings escape them. Then again, I suppose they aren't ignorant, for no elf could ever be so. They know perfectly well what humans "suffer", but as elves they have never experienced it. Though they never forget that I am a human, and the differences between me and them, no elf will ever truly know what someone like me thinks. I will never know how they think, either – though I wish I could. I doubt they would ever want to be inside the mind of a human. Well, I can't blame them for that.

Mother and Lord Elrond and all of the others say I am far wiser then my years, and that because I have grown up knowing of no one like myself, I have matured as many elves do. I know that is not the truth, however. They say it just to calm me, for no matter how far my vocabulary expands, Erestor will always be there to use yet another word I do not know the meaning of. And no matter how hard I try to better myself at dueling, Glorfindel will always best me and point out my flaws. Still, I shall never ride a horse as well as Elrohir, or see as far as Elladan. It is hopeless, to be sure.

If I had grown up around people like me, I know this would not bother me as much. I would've grown up only hearing of elves in stories, never seeing them. It wouldn't bother me that I wasn't as good as them, for I would never know it. Here, though, I am always reminded. Everyday, every time I come across an elf, I know that I will never be able to equal them.

Even if I am by myself, the air and general splendor of Imladris make it impossible to forget that I am among elves. No man-made place could ever look the same. The buildings, décor, gardens, food, clothing, and even all of the objects in Imladris are better then their counterparts in cities and lands of men. As strange as it sounds, the air is even better – pure, clean, and clearer.

Imladris is perfect, just as everyone in it is. Except for me. I am not perfect, and neither is Mother. I, however, am even less perfect then my mother. I am the lowest person in Imladris, and I am reminded of it constantly.

It is rather saddening, and sometimes angers me more then anyone would guess. I tried to tell Mother about it once, but she just didn't understand. She's lived with humans before, she isn't like me. No one is really like me. When I told Lord Elrond, he didn't understand either, though his is wise. Since then, I have never told anyone. I have kept my feelings to myself, though maybe I shouldn't.

But, even if I shouldn't keep it to myself, I do. Truly, I don't want to sound ungrateful or annoying, but everyday I have to suffer from being below everyone else.

I wish I wasn't. I wish that, for once in my life, I could be someone's equal.

**Hope you liked it! Please review!**


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